Larry Singer’s blog
An oddball Christmas
On my way home after a recent basketball game, I stopped and took a few shots of the microwave tower just off of West Main Street that, with the help of a lot of colored lights, becomes a massive Christmas tree.
But, being the sort who is seldom satisfied with what I shoot the first time, I began, on my computer, to play with one image until it became slightly more bizarre.
I hope you like it.
_______________________________________________________________________
Out Troutin’ Around
On Nov. 21, I had the opportunity to, for the first time, photograph Trout Fishing In America. TFIA is a musical duo combining folk rock, children’s music and interactive games like Simon Says (which comes in handy when the audience is filled with elementary and junior high school students). They performed at the El Dorado Municipal Auditorium.
The duo is made up of Keith Grimwood who is very short, plays bass and sings, and Ezra Idlet, who is very tall, plays guitar (sometime with his shoe) and banjo and also sings.
The name of the act (which just as easily could have been Let’s Have Lot’s of Fun With Music) was taken from the novel Trout Fishing In America by Richard Brautigan.
What made the concert unique, and kind of amazing, was TFIA grabbed the attention of their young audience and held onto it by making sure the kids had a rollicking good time.
If a typical school day was this much fun, the dropout rate would probably be close to zero, and learning, at long last, would be effective and fun.
_______________________________________________________________________
Down and away
As a thick fog that blanketed Union County began to burn off on the morning of Nov. 13, about a dozen men, many dressed in flannel shirts, industrial strength coats, blue jeans and work boots, gathered in front of Murmil Elementary School and prepared to relaunch a Cessna airplane that had been securely anchored in the school’s front yard for at least two decades.
The airplane had been set down at that spot because the school originally had a strong focus on the science of flight. Now that the school’s academic shift has be moved in an entirely different direction, volunteers from Lion Oil Trading and Transport were getting ready to move the plane to the downtown El Dorado airport.
The task of rigging the plane so it could be lifted and moved was probably as complex as the original effort to get it in front of the school back in the day.
First a very large crane was driven into place behind the plane. Then, nylon straps were looped around the front and rear of the plane and then attached to a heavy metal bar which was to be lifted by the crane.
Then a welder cut the hollow metal bars onto to which the plane was bolted.
When the last bar was severed, the plane was lifted.
For a brief moment in time the plane was level, but suddenly one of the two sturdy pieces of wood, used to keep the nylon webbing separated, slid into the plane’s windshield and the nose of the plane tipped toward the ground.
Slowly, the plane was then lowered to the street in front of the school, where it’s wings were removed and it was loaded onto a flatbed truck for it’s last journey.
I could not stay to watch the final act of this fascinating drama, but when the plane is lifted onto its new supports at its new home, I hope to be there so you can be there too.
_______________________________________________________________________
A photo here, a photo there, photos everywhere
Whenever I saved up enough money to go to EPCOT Center at Disney World in Florida, I would stand in line for a 3-D movie and get to watch a multimedia slide show sponsored by Kodak and displayed to Cindy Lauper singing “True Colors.”
The dozens of pictures that appeared and then faded away, only to replaced by even more majestic images, not only made waiting with hundreds of other people to see the main attraction tolerable, they were something, being a person who dabbles in photography, to which I looked forward with unbridled anticipation.
It is with the theme “True Colors” in mind that I humbly submit for your approval a few pictures I have taken recently, but, because of space limitations, were left on the cutting room floor.
Some were taken at MusicFest; a few at the Union County Fair and others were found as I crisscrossed Union county looking for feature photographs between assignments.
A newborn chick at the Union County Fair.
Foot-long corn dogs and sausages were a MusicFest staple.
A MusicFest guest with an eye toward the stars.
A plethora of balloons at MusicFest.
Two views of Old Glory.
A county fair welcome.
Candy-colored MusicFest cups.
Bumper stickers inside of a MusicFest food vendor’s booth.
A county fair goat with a little ham inside.
_______________________________________________________________________
From 1970 to 1983 I was a stringer (part-time photographer) for a magazine in New York that specialized in publishing articles on, and large color photographs of, rock and roll stars. This meant I got to go to concerts and take pictures of some fairly well known musicians.
I loved going to the concerts, hearing the high decibel music and just breathing the same air as Keith Richards, Pete Townshend and all three members of Rush.
But, alas, those heady days are far behind me, and I thought they were long gone until I sat down and began listening to Shooter Jennings and his group, the 357’s (Coley Read on lead guitar; Gordon Hartin on pedal steel and Ted Russel Kamp on bass) on the evening of Oct. 4, at MusicFest.
Once Shooter, dressed in a bright orange T-shirt and a very expensive pair of oversized aviator glasses, began to sing, the years began to peel away, and I found myself spiritually back at the long-demolished Hollywood Sportatorium on the edge of the Everglades, west of Fort Lauderdale, my camera pressed hard against my right eye, waiting for just the right expression to appear on the face of my photographic prey.
I thank Shooter for taking me back to a time I loved, and I am lucky to be able to share the results of that concert shoot with you.
_______________________________________________________________________
Look, mom, I have two
When it came time to give out the awards to the winners at the Union County Fair Queen Pageant Sept. 20, the expression on the face of Tiara Washington, left, who took home a Fourth Runner Up trophy in the Tiny Miss Contest, gives a strong clue about how she feels about the two trophies being happily clutched by Second Runner Up Hannah Brotherton, right.
_________________________________________________________________________
On one news-filled day
On some days, because there are so many events making news, and so little space in this newspaper to run all the images turned out by our photography staff, some pictures do not get published.
Such was the case on Aug. 19, when three pictures I took remained in my computer.
Not only did parts of El Dorado wind up under water, but two members of Congress were in town to make presentations to the Murphy Oil Company.
The first picture is of an unidentified man on a bicycle gamely making his way through a small lake in front of the El Dorado Library.
The second is of Rep. Mike Ross talking to Murphy CEO and President Claiborne Demming as the visage of a framed Charles Murphy Sr. appears to look on.
The third image is of Lou Keller, a field representative for Sen. Mark Pryor, who’s sitting in front of a huge map covering one wall of the Murphy Oil Company boardroom. It has no real news value, but is nonetheless one that I like a lot.
____________________________________________________________________________
Happy dogs
All it takes for two dogs to beat the heat that has been a part of our lives in El Dorado for weeks, are two sprinklers, a non stop supply of cool water, and the burning urge to have some very wet fun.
_____________________________________________________________________
SK8 Park fun
On a recent blazing hot Friday, four young man defied gravity and ignored the ever present possibility of fractures, contusions and abrasions by putting the new additions to Bodenhamer Skateboard Park in El Dorado to the test.
While sweat poured from their faces, Dillon Burkland, in a yellow shirt, Will Baldwin in a white tee, Jody Barbaree in a green top and Jamin Alexisis tested the limits of gravity and their skate boards.
If these images are any indication, the additions made by the city to the park pass with flying colors.
__________________________________________________________________________
Airborne athletes
I am always amazed when, after shooting an assignment, I download my pictures into my computer and discover I have captured athletes suspended in mid air.
Sometimes these images, because of space limitations, never get printed in the paper, so I thought I’d share two of my favorite unpublished “airborne” images with you.
The first was taken at a track meet in El Dorado and it is of El Dorado High School student Justin Billings running the hundred meter dash.
The second is of Ryan Hackemack, a left fielder for the Tri County Texas Babe Ruth League team that was playing against Pine Bluff Seabrook in the semifinal game of the tournament, recently held in El Dorado.
Tri County beat Pine Bluff, and this catch by Hackemack is one reason why his team walked off the field victorious at the end of the game.
_______________________________________________________________________
Felsenthal
Less than an hour by car from El Dorado is another world that can only be entered by boat. And only by those who either know their way around the curving cuts off the Ouachita River, or have a knack for finding their way home after losing their sense of direction in the middle of what seems like an endless swamp.
This watery universe is the Felsenthal National Wildlife Refuge, and when it comes to wildlife, Felsenthal lives up to its name.
Established in 1975, the 65,000 acre refuge is located between the communities of Felsenthal and Crossett.
It is an intricate system of rivers, creeks, sloughs, buttonbush swamps and lakes.
In just two hours, on July 20, while being guided by Gene Brown, who has fished and explored these waters for years, I saw a dizzying variety of waterfowl, a soft shell turtle laying eggs on a small sandy island, about a dozen 20 pound rodents called nutria swimming away from my camera, hundreds of dragonflies, a few fisherman, and the mirror-like images of cypress trees reflected in the still water.
_____________________________________________________________________
On the evening of June 3, 2008, I had just settled in to enjoy a rerun of “Boston Legal” when the program was interrupted with the announcement that Barack Obama had just become presumptive nominee for president on the Democratic ticket.
I was not surprised, because I discovered about a year earlier that, unless something radically negative happened, Mr. Obama’s nomination was pretty much going to be, when the smoke cleared, inevitable.
Why had I come to this conclusion?
Because it was on the morning of June 15, 2007, that I had the unique opportunity to spend about an hour with the candidate.
A day earlier I had been sitting in the newsroom of the daily paper in Greenwood, South Carolina, when our secretary answered the phone, and because I was the only editorial staffer in the office, routed the call to me.
It was one of Barack Obama’s South Carolina campaign staff people, and he asked me if I could attend, the next day, a closed-door meeting in a spacious conference room at the local civic center with Obama and about 30 city and county politicians.
When I told him I would be happy to be there, he told me I would be the only local media person at the gathering and not to tell anyone, other than my editor, about the event.
I was also told Obama would be in our area to make two speeches; one in a public rally in Greenwood and another in Spartanburg.
The Greenwood visit, the campaign person explained, would be at 9 a.m., and the public would not be invited.
The next morning, when Obama entered the room, I could not believe the massive burst of charismatic electricity that was suddenly generated by the candidate.
After a few brief remarks, Obama then went to every invited guest in the room and not only answered all of the questions posed to him, but asked questions and listened intently to the answers.
As I photographed and tape recorded each encounter, I realized that this was not the basic ego driven political hack, but someone who, justifiably, was headed straight down the road, at supersonic speed, toward the highest office in the land.
Shortly after he spoke to the last of his political guests gathered in the room, I shook Obama’s hand and asked him if he would be willing to answer one question.
When he agreed, I asked him if, as president, he could change just one thing, what would it be?
“I would change the way we elect politicians,” he said. “So that they did not have to go out and raise millions of dollars so their message could be heard.”
“Do you really believe most politicians would be willing to give up the big bucks generated by their supporters?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, ” but the system has to be revamped from top to bottom so no person, business or organization has any more influence than anyone else. Special interests have become far too powerful, and that power needs to be returned to the people.”
A few minutes later, Obama strode through the same door through which he had entered and as he departed, took with him the near-magical energy he carried in.
Having lived through the terms of more than a few presidents, both Democrat and Republican, who really did not base their policies upon what the common man wanted or needed, I realized during my drive back to the newspaper that if Obama could get those who would vote in both the upcoming primary elections, as well as the big one in November, to understand what he wanted, and why, I would one day be able to tell my friends and family I one day met not just a successful politician, but a brilliant statesman and leader this great country could, at last, look at with chest-bursting pride.
__________________________________________________________________________
I love to watch the mannerisms of elected officials, and the higher the office they occupy, the more I enjoy this act of intense scrutiny.
The reason for my interest is simple: These are people who find themselves under the microscope by their their supporters, their opponents and the press.
The best (and the most successful) have polished their physical public image (clothes, haircut, facial expressions and body language) to a high gloss.
Whenever they make a public appearance people watch their every move and are constantly judging everything about them.
That is why I recently enjoyed being in close proximity to, and allowed to photograph, Arkansas Governor Mike Beebe.
When the governor spoke at a recent ground breaking ceremony in Parkers Chapel, I was truly enthralled at the variety of expressions that appeared on his face both while waiting to speak and once he stood at the podium.
Because I am neither a supporter or detractor of our governor, I made no effort to put any hidden meaning to my pictures, other than to illustrate the many fascinating faces of the chief executive of Arkansas.
___________________________________________________________________________
In the main hallway of the building that houses people who study bugs on the campus of Clemson University was a cartoon featuring one student in a classroom talking to another student.
The caption merely read, “Two weeks ago I couldn’t even spell entomologist, and now I are one.”
Well, I am not an entomologist, nor do I have any plans on becoming someone who seriously studies insects for a living.
In fact, when I worked for a newspaper in South Carolina, I put together a photo story by using a half dozen butterfly pictures.
Unfortunately, I identified what were swallowtails as monarchs.
This blunder would not have been as horrible as it was, had the swallowtail not been the official state butterfly of South Carolina.
The day after the pictures appeared in the paper, I had about 15 emails in my inbox; each was written by someone who knew more about butterflies than I, and each explained that I was an idiot who should know the difference between a monarch and a swallowtail.
Sadly, they were correct, so I dutifully answered each angry butterfly lover and agreed with that that yes, I was indeed a moron who would never make that mistake again.
But while I am most certainly not an expert on insects, when I see them through the lens of my camera, I am often astounded by their delicate beauty.
Such was the case recently.
While photographing a bevy of female track stars I made a hasty decision to capture a few of the caterpillars that had invaded the football field and track where El Dorado High School competes.
When I downloaded the pictures, I was amazed by their beauty.
After photographing a recent softball game at Parkers Chapel, I noticed a butterfly (or perhaps it’s a moth) flitting around some scarlet thistles.
I hope you enjoy examining them, close up, as much as I did.
____________________________________________________________________________
The South Arkansas Arboretum is a 13-acre botanical garden owned by the El Dorado school system but operated the South Arkansas Community College. It is located next to El Dorado High School and is open daily except for holidays.
It features plants indigenous to this area, including flowering azaleas and camellias, shortleaf and loblolly pines, southern and sweet bay magnolias, black gum, white ash, American sycamore, carolina beech, American holly, black cherry, sugar maple, and oak species such as water, post, southern red, white and overcup.
Opened in 1965, the arboretum is Arkansas’ only state park located within a city; it includes more than two miles of paved trails.
Recently, between assignments, I spent about a half hour capturing some of the blossoming plants that turned what was, until recently, a colorless and wintery drab patch of land into a carpet of pink, red and white flowers.
Oddly, during my visit, I discovered one white flower that had obviously cross bred with a pink flower, resulting in a sharply differentiated pink and white bloom that was both bizarre and visually striking.
On Jan. 28, just four weeks after I started working for the El Dorado News-Times, I took a photograph which, when published the next day, resulted in more positive feedback than any picture I have taken in my 30 year career as a photojournalist.
The picture, which technically left much to be desired, shows a young man named Nathan Reddin sprinting away from the camera.
What made the picture unique, and what inspired a great deal of interest, is that Nathan is wearing a jumpsuit with words stenciled on the back which identify him as a person, who until recently, was in police custody. He is wearing only a pair of white socks on his feet and is doing his best to avoid being recaptured by the local constabulary.
Many people who saw the picture on the front page of the paper asked me how I knew to be in the right place, at the right time, to shoot Mr. Reddin as he was flying west on Main Street.
The answer is simple: I really didn’t plan on shooting Mr. Reddin at all.
I was looking for a feature photograph of anything of interest in the downtown area, and stopped to get a picture of workers repairing the First Baptist Church overpass on West Avenue. Shortly after stepping out of my car and putting a telephoto lens on my camera, I saw a man in a bright orange jump suit running westbound across West.
It didn’t take me long to reason that a person in a jumpsuit running at top speed is probably making a break for freedom.
Fortunately, I had the lens set to auto focus.
At the speed he was moving I had just enough time to put the camera up to my eye, get Mr. Reddin reasonably centered in the frame, and fire off one shot before he took a hard right and disappeared between the church and a restaurant.
A few minutes later the police found their prey hiding under a parked car and took him back into custody.
I only wish I had seen Reddin sooner so I could have captured the look of panic and exhaustion on his face as he ran towards me.
That would have resulted in a picture that told the whole story.
____________________________________________________________________
While driving back home on a recent Sunday after a shopping trip to a large retail chain headquartered here in Arkansas, I saw four people dressed as though they had just traveled from the time when Jesus walked the earth.
They were walking beside two sheep, who were grazing on a strip of grass across the street from the El Dorado Municipal Auditorium.
The four time travelers, I soon discovered, were Kris Borosvskis, Joe Hurst, Carolyn Gaunt and Tony Forbess — who was was carrying a walking stick similar to the one used by Charleston Heston in “The Ten Commandments.”
As a naturally curious sort, I figured they might make a suitably attention-getting feature photo for the El Dorado News-Times, and I quickly discovered all four were cast members in the Promise, a play about the story of Jesus presented by the El Dorado Community Chorus & Cast and sponsored by the First Baptist Church.
Before driving to the auditorium to get a copy of the program, Borosvskis, Hurst, Gaunt and Forbess were joined by an Apostle — Marty Burns — who, unlike most historically correct apostles, was carrying a Canon digital single lens reflex camera around his neck.
In the auditorium parking lot, most of the cast had gathered to socialize before being herded backstage prior to the commencement of the production.
Although a Roman soldier, played by Joe Schumacher, quickly attracted my attention because he looked exactly like I imagined a no nonsense Roman soldier would look 2,000 years ago, it was Steve Splawn, who had the dubious honor of portraying Satan, that sent chills up my spine.
I’m not sure who gave Splawn tips on how to accurately portray the King of Darkness, but if the real Beezlebub is half as creepy as Splawn, I will definitely try and avoid mortal sins at all cost.
______________________________________________________________________
Goodbye Oscar
On March 17, St. Patrick’s Day, I lost a a close friend who I loved a lot.
His name was Oscar, he weighed about seven pounds dripping wet; he was a terrier mix and I can’t tell you how much I miss him.
Oscar was adopted from the Union County Animal Protection Society (UCAPS) by my wife, Jan, about three weeks ago, and when I came home from work and saw him sitting on a big recliner with Jan, it was love at
first sight.
I immediately pulled out my camera and took his first formal portrait. After a week, Jan decided Oscar needed a doggie friend and playmate, so back to UCAPS she went.
When she returned, we were owners of both Oscar and a Chinese Crested dog named Sweet Pea.
Jan was wise enough to take Oscar with her, and she only adopted Sweet Pea after Oscar gave her the puppy seal of approval. I have never seen two dogs enjoy each other’s company more than Oscar and Sweet Pea, and I would laugh repeatedly as the two would chase each other around the house and wrestle with each other, often on my lap.
At this point, it must be said that Oscar had been put up for adoption because he had one incurable personality disorder: He was afflicted with wanderlust and the urge to escape the loving confines of whatever home he occupied and trot blocks away to visit other dogs in the neighborhood. When tracked down, instead of hopping in the chase vehicle, he would turn tail and run.
Even though he had short, stubby legs, that dog could run faster than Jan, even when cornered in a neighbor’s back yard. What made this habit particularly odious was Oscar’s total disregard for street traffic.
It was this trait that lead to his demise.
Even though Jan and I did everything we could to keep Oscar safely in our backyard, including lining our
wood fence at ground level with chicken wire, Oscar still found a way to escape on March 17.
When I returned from work that evening, Jan was sitting on her recliner with Sweet Pea; the look on her face told me something was terribly wrong. She told me Oscar had escaped late that afternoon and would not be coming back. When she told me Oscar had been hit and killed by car I discovered the real meaning of grief.
Fortunately, our neighbor, an El Dorado police officer named Thadeus Norman witnessed the event and walked over to tell my wife what happened and told her he would take care of Oscar’s remains so she
wouldn’t have to see him in in that condition.
Because Sweet Pea mourned the loss of her friend as much as Jan and I, when I returned from work on the
night of the 18th, I met Buttons, a male Wooly Chinese Crested who had been rescued from a puppy mill by the angels who staff UCAPS.
Although Jan and Sweet Pea and I love and play with Buttons, I miss my buddy Oscar. Wherever he is, I hope he’s happy, loved and is in a place where he can play safely. I know God is laughing at his antics as much as I did, and that’s a good thing.
Sweet Pea
Sweet Pea and Buttons
________________________________________________________________________
Perfect pitch
During a recent trip to the Norphlet High School baseball field to shoot the locals playing Junction City in baseball, I shot a series of photographs of the home team’s pitcher Jason Hogue.
Although Hogue did not get the win, I was truly impressed with his poise, style, attitude, composure and intensity as he first readied himself and then delivered each pitch.
I don’t get a chance to shoot many profession baseball games, but as I watched Hogue through my camera’s viewfinder and telephoto/zoom lens, I felt like I was in a big league town in front of 40,000 cheering fans watching a star rookie pitcher just up from the minors, staring down opposing batters and working his magic on the mound.
